French People Piss Me Off
by creek.for.sale
Summary: All his life, Pip had been cast aside, shoved from the table and beaten up. His parents, his family, those stupid American idiots who constantly messed with him and caused him pain. Well, they would soon learn the folly of their actions. You see, Pip has had enough. And he's been thinking of doing this for quite some time. School Shooting. Major Character Death. Multiple Pairings
1. Chapter 1

Damien sat at his desk, the one he had insisted on having, the one in the back corner of class and farthest away from everyone else. Back here, he could at least pretend that he wasn't forced to converse with all these idiots on a daily basis.

To be fair, he had been one of the few members of the class who had faded into the background of this stupid hick town over the years since Elementary school. Damien sighed angrily. He looked around, taking note of his classmates. They had all changed so much. After middle school, most all of them started getting far more irritating and awkward.

Stan was sitting the farthest away from Damien, leaning across his desk to whisper in Kyle's ear, smiling at some joke that had just been told. Kyle laughed also, looking up at Stan through his eyelashes. They were interrupted by Kenny, who had his feet up on Kyle's desk and his head in Butters' lap. He kept throwing little balled up pieces of paper between Stan and Kyle. Cartman finished off the front row, yelling all about how Kyle was a Jew and Stan was a hippie and Kenny was poor and Butters was gay, and Damien laughed mirthlessly at them.

The second row was just as bad. Currently, Craig was sneering at Stan, and talking to Tweek, Clyde and Token. Tweek was sitting on Craig's desk, and his constant twiching and shaking was irritating Damien to no end. Clyde was sitting in the desk next to Craig, and Token was sitting beside him. Token was leaning over Clyde, who kept awkwardly patting his friend's back and blushing like an idiot.

Damien snorted with disgust at how see-through all of his classmates were. They were all so obviously gay, and in denial. Damien hated all of them with a passion. But right now, he could think of nothing but the empty seat in front of him. Pip was the most tolerable person in this class, and he hadn't yet made an appearance today. It was very unlike him to miss class, and Damien found himself a bit worried for him.

But that's stupid. He has no reason to think about the Brit.

He is NOT gay.

Not like the rest of them.

God, that's just what they all would want. He was one of the proud few who hadn't switched teams, even if the others hadn't quite grasped that they themselves had yet.

Speaking of, that's what the back row consisted of. The only people Damien actually believed to be straight other than himself and Pip. Wendy, Bebe, Red, Annie and Kevin Stoley. Pip sat next to Token in the second row usually and Damien has always sat in the last seat of the third row. Right behind him.

Damien glanced uneasily at the clock, and then at the door, but the blond boy was nowhere to be found. Mr. Garrison was currently walking around the classroom. Wendy had apparently complained about how Tweek was sitting and Mr. Garrison approached Craig's group, with the intention of forcing Tweek into a seat, but only getting a nervous shriek from Tweek and the middle finger from Criag. Garrison sighed loudly, mumbling about 'little bastards' before going to sit behind his desk again.

Suddenly the door opened and Pip entered. Damien was immediately off-put by the fact that Pip was not smiling, and his entire demeanor was grim and angry. Of course, the son of Satan was the only one who could tell that something was wrong.

Cartman turned to the door, being the closest one to it, and sneered at the British boy. "Well, well, look who showed up. Get caught up in eating crosaints or something, you French fag?"

Pip glowered at him evilly and spoke so softly that only Eric and Damien could hear what he actually said. "Shut up."

Cartman looked very shocked for a moment before disbelievingly demanding Pip repeat himself.

"I said, SHUT UP, YOU POMPOUS ASS!" Pip screamed at the fat boy.

Anyone who hadn't already been looking in the direction of the pissed off fat ass and the obviously emotionally disturbed British boy were doing so now. Eric stood up with a jerk, and his fat ass almost got him stuck in the desk, but he got up after a second of struggle.

"HOW DARE YOU, YOU FRENCH PIECE OF SHIT!" Cartman yelled at Pip. Damien watched in shock as Pip looked up at him with a disturbing smile. "I'm not French."

The temperature in the room seemed to go down a few degrees, and time slowed down. Pip reached behind him into his bag and suddenly everything was crystal clear to Damien, who hardly had enough time to scream a desperate warning before Pip whirled around with a gun in his hands. The world exploded into screams and gunshots and Damien took cover under his desk for what seemed like an eternity until everything went silent.

He looked up over his desk disbelievingly, to witness Pip, sobbing into his arm, standing amidst the gruesome aftermath. He slowly lifted the gun to his head, and Damien clenched his tear-filled eyes shut as tightly as possible when the echo of the last gunshot rang through his ears.


	2. Chapter 2

"We are very sadly reporting that early this morning, at approximately 8:27 a.m., we received reports of a school shooting at Park County High. At this time, it is believed that there are eight dead, including the teacher, Mr. Garrison, and the shooter himself. Seven students are injured, at least four in critical condition at Hell's Pass hospital. Only two of the sixteen students walked away unharmed, but, have been very traumatized at this terrible event. Our prayers go out to all of the families and friends who have lost these young souls, and to those who face a long, painful recovery. A vigil is being held, outside the school, and as a community we all hope that those who are injured will improve, and that we can one day heal from the terrible wounds that we have received."


	3. Chapter 3

Craig looked up at what appeared to be the ceiling in confusion. It didn't look like it should. Was it... moving? He blinked against the harsh lights that sped past him.

A loud ringing noise was the only thing he could hear, and god, his head was pounding. Wincing at the pain that suddenly shot through his entire right side as he turned his head, he noticed that he was laying in a bed, being pushed down a bright hallway. With a distant, calm detachment, he realized that he was in a hospital. Hell's Pass, probably.

The ringing noise was still causing a pounding headache. Craig realized that if he was in the hospital, he must be injured. He attempted to sit up, but immediately stopped when pain tore through him again. Still feeling like he was half asleep, and somehow floating above gravity, yet not knowing how exactly that was possible, Craig tried to remember how he got here.

The last thing he could remember was... Tweek's face. He thinks he was dreaming about it. But, Tweek was, sitting in class with him. This morning, right? Craig felt his heart start to speed up and a pit grew in his stomach as he realized.

Tweek looked terrified. It wasn't Tweek's normal fear, no, this was so much more intense. He had stopped mid-sentence.

"I said, SHUT UP, YOU POMPOUS ASS!"

That was what had interrupted him. Craig could feel that something was very, very wrong.

"HOW DARE YOU, YOU FRENCH PIECE OF SHIT!"

Was Pip here? What was going on? Where's Tweek?! Craig could feel his heartbeat and his throat close up, dry and cracked. Explosions. Screams. Everyone is screaming.

Tweek turns to look at him. The ringing intensifies, with the background exploding.

Tweek starts to open his mouth, and reaches out to Craig. Blood tears through Tweek, ripping him up.

There's so much screaming. Craig realizes that it's him. He's screaming. Hot tears are running down his face, and he watches Tweek fall. Craig doesn't even register the bullets ripping into him, he just watches Tweek.

The world closes in around him. Tweek is laying on the ground.

Screaming and thrashing about, ignoring the intense pain all around him, Craig hears more noise. The overbearing ringing, and voices. Yelling urgently at each other. "He's seizing! Grab his wrists!" Screaming. Blood. He is covered in Tweek's blood.

Blackness surrounds him, wrapping him in a cold, desolate feeling. The last thing he sees before slipping into unconsciousness is Tweek. Looking up at him from the floor, covered in blood, eyes widened with terror before rolling back into his head.


	4. Chapter 4

When Craig opens his eyes, he sees nothing but a bright white light. As he slowly adjusts to the brightness he realizes he is in a hospital bed. Looking out the window, Craig sees nothing but the gray that is almost night. The clock confirms this, telling him it's almost seven p.m. His father sits slumped over in a chair by the window, as does his little sister, Ruby. Craig's mother lays with her head buried in the sheets on Craig's bed. They are all asleep, eyes ringed from lack of sleep and tears are dried on his mother and sister's cheeks.

Craig tries to lift his head up, and groans at the sharp pains on the right side of his body. Mrs. Tucker shoots up in her seat at the noise, being a very light sleeper who was really only resting. He looks at her for a moment, and her eyes fill with tears again.

Craig feels so small. Like a tiny child who is weak and desperate. Somewhere in the back of his mind he tells himself that he needs to be strong. Every ounce of strength drains out of him the second she whispers his name. "Mom," he cries with his voice breaking in an embarrassing way, and she leans forward and wraps him up in her arms.

He sobs softly into her shoulder, not feeling like himself, and flinches when he feels a hand touch his head. Craig looks up and sees his father and sister standing next to him.

Shaking slightly, Craig leans out of the embrace and tries to compose himself. "What happened, Mom?" He asks, still feeling very small. She looks at her husband and he shakes his head. "Honey, we need to tell the doctors that you're awake, first." Craig sighs shakily and his mother leans over to push the call button.

His family all sit down and two nurses come in to start bustling about, taking Craig's heart rate and blood pressure, gingerly examining his bandaged arm and torso. His mother pulls one of them aside and Craig could just hear bits of their conversation.

"What will he remember?"

"Not much, he was heavily sedated-"

"But about what happened in the school?"

"Honestly, ma'am, there's a strong possibility he may block it out. He is still in shock."

"But it's been two days."

"Ma'am, I'm going to send in one of our counselors."

"Fine!"

His mother angrily turns away from the nurse, who smiles sadly at him and then gathers the data from his file before walking out with the other nurse. Craig could feel his mind stumbling to catch up with what was going on, but he knows that this is very bad.

He feels a lump in his throat and turns his head to the opposite wall, staring blankly at the tubes that feed into his arm. His family starts whispering indistinctly, but he ignores them. A few moments later a woman walks into the room and talks to his parents.

Craig doesn't notice until they get up and leave the room and the woman pulls a chair up next to him. "Hello." She is looking at him now. He nods in her direction. "My name is Dr. Emily." He keeps staring at her emotionlessly and she fidgets with her pen and notebook, but not uncomfortably. "Craig, do you know why you are in the hospital?" Dr. Emily keeps looking into his eyes, and he can feel his protective barrier crumbling.

She puts a hand on his shoulder and he breaks, looking down as a few silent tears drip off of his nose.

"Is Tweek dead?" He whispered to her, shaking at the thought.

His inner self was screaming at him again, telling him to man up and stop crying like a baby. Dr. Emily looked a bit surprised, and glanced down at her notebook, saying "We do have one of your classmates named Tweek in intensive care. He is badly injured, but stable, for the most part." Craig trembled.

"Tell me what happened."

He looked at her disbelievingly as she told him that Pip had a breakdown, shooting up the class and then shooting himself in the head. Pip. The polite, quiet British boy. Craig knew that he was picked on a bit by some of the meaner students. Eric, for the most part, but he never thought it was so bad that Pip would go crazy.

Dr. Emily took a deep breath and looked at him. "Craig, do you know about what's happened to your classmates?" He shook his head. "Seven of them... Well, they have passed on." Craig's eyes widen and he asks a silent question. Who. "Pip, for, obvious reasons. Eric Cartman. Token Black. Kevin Stoley. Bebe Johnson. Wendy Testaburger and Annie Faulk are... gone. I'm very sorry." Craig squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

Token. Just, gone. One second everyone is fine. Joking around. Laughing at some 'your mother is a crack whore' jokes at Cartman's expense. The next everything is just gone. He doesn't honestly give a rat's ass about the others, even though sure, it's sad, but at just the thought that he's lost one of his best friends, tears threaten to spill again, and Craig can feel his inner self pounding inside his head. Don't cry. Don't you dare.

He manages to straighten out his features and look back at Dr. Emily, who is looking on with a deep sadness in her eyes. "What about the others?" She glanced at her notebook again. "We have a Stan Marsh in here. His wounds are relatively, less, than some of the other ones we have. We expect him to be up anytime now. Same with, uh, Clyde Donovan, and this girl, she's only got one name on her sheet. Rebecca? Red? And then we have a Kyle Broflovski and Leopold Stotch also in intensive care with your friend Tweek."

She suddenly seemed uncomfortable, tensed up as if she were about to deliver more bad news. Craig braced himself. "Well, Clyde Donovan. He woke up earlier today. We're afraid he might have some brain damage," she quickly amended herself as she glanced at Craig's mangled version of a horrified look, "but it's nothing that can't be helped with time and therapy! Well, when he woke, we told him about his classmates. Two of them walked away unharmed, and when he heard their names he kind of went crazy. He started screaming and thrashing about, almost broke one of the nurse's nose. He's in restraints now, but he's not emotionally stable."

Craig tensed even more. "Who walked away?" She seemed very nervous now, eyeing the call button as if already preparing herself for Craig's reaction. Clyde must have really made a scene if she was this worried. "Um, Damien Thorne, and a Kenny McCormick."

Craig closed his eyes, and his voice darkened into an honestly terrifying growl. "That- that fucking asshole didn't die?

He could have lived! He could have died instead of Token!

He can fucking come back! How dare he?! The one fucking time when we could have USED a jerk who can come back to life AND HE "WALKS AWAY" UNHARMED?! TWEEK IS LAYING UP IN THIS HOSPITAL SOMEWHERE. TOKEN IS DEAD! AND MCCORMICK IS JUST _OKAY_?!"

Craig could hardly see through the red that filtered his vision. Dr. Emily punched the call button and two men in hospital uniforms came in quickly. Craig attempted to thrash about in fury and the men strapped his arms down, tightening a thick strap around his torso as well.

A doctor came in, and quickly administered a drug to Craig's IV. He was still thrashing about in what little way he could, ignoring the stabbing pain through his injured arm and chest, yelling unintelligible curses at anyone he could think of.

God. Kenny. Pip.

He started to get weaker as the drugs coursed through him, movements lessening. He watched Dr. Emily through hazy eyes, and she spoke soothing things that he couldn't understand as he once again started to drift into a drug-induced sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Kenny walked through the nearly empty hallway. At about 11 at night, only two nurses were on duty, and they were preoccupied with some other patient, who, from the sounds of it, was going into cardiac arrest. They bustled about, yelling commands to people and grabbing medical equipment to rush to the patient in need. He stood idle, and watched them. Their screams reminded him.

He remembers everything.

When it all went down, when all he heard was screaming and gunshots and Butters' terrified screams. He remembered it all. He had thought that he was dying again, as he had so many times before. But this was different. This time, after the last gunshot sounded, and the smoke cleared, Kenny sat up, completely unharmed. Well, not completely.

His mind had taken the worst wound, because, when he sat up, all he could see was the gore that used to be his class. Kenny had seen some awful things in his life, but nothing ever compared to this.

The first thing he laid eyes on was Pip. He was in the front of the room, the same place he had stood shooting. He lay on his face, unmoving, and his blood was splattered onto the blackboard. Mr. Garrison was laying sprawled out, covered with his own blood.

Kenny could still feel his chest tighten with an indescribable agony as he realized exactly what he would see when he turned around. He clenched his eyes shut again, his tears threatening to spill over. The doctors had wanted to keep him here for longer. Treatment for shock. Post-traumatic stress, they said. He wouldn't have minded staying, either, but his dad pulled him out by his shoulder.

"We ain't got money for this 'treatment' shit, boy! You ain't even hurt!"

Looking around the nearly empty hospital, Kenny was filled with a hollow feeling. One of the nurses that rushed in to help gave him a suspicious glance as he leaned back on the wall and had a minor breakdown. She asked him if he was okay, and he didn't reply. He thought that it was pretty damn obvious that he wasn't. He waved her off and she looked as if she were going to object more, but someone called for her and she reluctantly left him. Kenny forced himself to regain his feet and he walked down the hallway to the trauma unit. Butters, Kyle, Tweek and Red were in the same room as they had been since they were admitted.

The hospital had security over here for the past few days, because reporters had been trying to get pictures of the victims of the only school shooting South Park has ever seen. They had only been allowing family in to visit, but the guard was nowhere to be found, and Kenny slipped into the darkened hospital room.

He closed his eyes until the soft click of the door sounded behind him. Kyle and Tweek were on one side of the room, and Red and Butters were on the other. Not one of them was conscious, and there were machines lining every wall, and tubes were hooked into all of them, feeding them and helping them breathe and keeping their hearts beating. Kenny couldn't handle seeing Butters in this state right now, so he rushed over to Kyle. A chair was over by the back wall, so Kenny pulled it over and sat beside him. Tubes snaked around his arms and into his mouth. Kenny had spent so much time over the years in the hospital that he could recognize when the heavy machinery was used, the ones that just barely managed to keep people alive. It was worse than Kenny thought it was. Bandages crisscrossed Kyle's torso, wrapped around his head. Kyle's bright red hair made him look twice as pale and lifeless, and his green ushanka was stuffed behind his right shoulder.

Kenny tried to swallow past the giant lump in his throat, eyes burning, and picked up the hat. It was crumpled in on itself, and there were numerous bloodstains that looked as if someone had tried to viciously scrub them away but failed. Turning the hat over in his hands, Kenny felt his heart skip a beat when he noticed a rip in one of the seams, where it looked like a bullet went through. He dropped it like it was scalding him, and squeezed his eyes shut, though tears managed to leak out anyway.

The chair clattered to the floor as he abruptly stood up and pushed it out of his way. He rushed to the door and cast one tearful look back at Butters before slipping back out into the bright hallway.

**Hey Guys and Gals...**

_Poor Kenny. Sorry about the long wait for an update, I am not very consistent with stuff like this, lol sorry. By the way, since I ran out of room in the summary and haven't had a chance to tell you guys yet, the pairings in this are gonna be Creek, Bunny, Style, little bits of Tyde and just a dash of Dip. In that order. ANyWay, I will try to keep updating fairly frequently, and since I HAVE WIFI NOW (yay!) I feel like I'll be able to do that. Alright byeeeee_


	6. Chapter 6

The next time Craig woke, his room was empty. He lifted his left arm in the air and examined the grotesque tubing coming out of him, sighing heavily. When he tried to lift his right arm, shooting pains caused him to yelp quietly. Giving himself a once over, he took account of his injuries. Gauze and medical tape held his bandages together, crisscrossing his right arm and torso. In anguish at his inability to move without terrible pain, he flung his head to the side, breathing heavily. The window beside his bed showed a grey sky, cloudy and overcast, with rain pelting down on the trees and pane of glass. The wind blew the treetops so hard they trembled in the torrent, shivering under the cloak of rain. Like the sky itself had opened up and dumped a bucket of tears over the world.

Craig could feel his heart clench as he watched the rain pour down. He remembered the last time he had watched a storm like this.

_"Augh! I just- I don't have to explain it Craig! You'll see when you get here!" Craig chuckled softly into his phone, hearing Tweek's plea like static in his ear. He liked when Tweek called him to talk in the middle of the night, though it was usually because the coffee addict was Absolutely Certain that there were gnomes under his bed, or that he could hear a zombie groaning in his closet, sure to burst out and eat Tweek's brains as he slept. There was something nice about the fact that Tweek relied on Craig to calm him down when he was scared and alone. Craig knew he was too afraid to wake either of his parents to chase away the zombies, not that they'd care enough to give him the attention he deserved anyway. _

_He could practically hear Tweek shivering and twitching under his covers, and he was definitely privy to the little squeaks and yelps that echoes through his phone as Tweek got more nervous and worked up. "A-are you there? Craig? Oh GOD it's too much pressure DID THEY GET YOU? CRAIG!" Tweek's panicked cries snapped Craig out of his thoughts._

_"Calm down, Tweek. I'm on my way. Just stay where you are." He waited until Tweek squeaked in confirmation and then hung up and rolled out of bed. He hastily made his way out into the street, realizing too late that it was pouring, and cursing himself for not bringing a thicker jacket, or just taking the car. It was too late to go back though, because seconds were precious when Tweek was freaking out like this, and he was just too plain lazy to go back and get either. Tweek's house came into view quickly, being only a street over, and Craig let himself in the back door, with the key that Tweek had told him about after he was confident that Craig wouldn't use it to sneak in and murder him one day. He shed himself of his shoes and sweater, but he was still dripping wet from the storm._

_For anyone else, Craig would never have woken up in the middle of the night and run through a monsoon, but somehow, Tweek got a free pass to make Craig do things like that. He made his way up to Tweek's room, pushing the door open slowly and stepping into the dark and silent room. Tweek was cocooned in his blankets, shivering almost violently._

_"Hey, hey Tweek, what's wrong?" Craig whispered to him, trying not to startle him. The bundle of blankets stopped quivering for a moment before Tweek flung himself up from the bed and wrapped his arms around Craig's neck. Surprised by the sudden movement, Craig wrapped his arms around the trembling boy. Hugging was another thing Tweek could do to Craig that nobody save his mother or sister could do. He held the little blonde tightly, and shook his head. "What's wrong, Tweekers?" He voiced softly. _

_Tweek pulled his face out of where he'd buried it in Craig's shirt and looked into Craig's face instead. Their eyes locked and Craig could feel his heart trying to climb up his throat, but he gulped quickly and looked away to where Tweek pointed. Outside Tweek's window, a small overhang from the roof allowed for a dry nook where Craig could see the shifting of silvery feathers. Two glowing eyes met Craig's as the owl rotated it's head around to see him. Its feathers ruffled as it shook droplets from its wings._

_"Its going to KILL me! Oh God!" Tweek yelped in his arms. Craig sighed affectionately and shook his head. _

_"No, Tweek, it won't kill you. Owls aren't evil. See him? He's just trying to stay dry in the storm."_

_Tweek shivered. "But just look into its EYES don't you see them looking into your soul?!"_

_"Na, he doesn't care. Look. He's cleaning his feathers. He's got other things going on than trying to kill you." The owl was, in fact, ignoring them, raking its beak through the feathers on its back leisurely. Tweek stared at it, as if trying to read its mind and find out if it was planning his murder or not. He relaxed in Craig's arms and reached his feet down to stand on the floor instead of clinging to Craig's frame like a baby monkey on its mother._

_The blonde looked down in shame, suddenly realizing that Craig was soaking wet. A blush crept up his neck, though the raven in front of him didn't seem to notice._

_"Ug- h, Craig! You're all wet!" Craig shrugged at his short companion, seemingly uninterested in the current focus of his freaking out. Tweek gave a frustrated grunt and hurried around Craig to his dresser, pulling out a fresh shirt and pair of sweatpants for his friend._

_"Here. C-change into something warm, and I'll go downstairs to make some coffee." Craig nodded and clutched the clothes to himself, knowing that he would definitely be staying the rest of the night, and also that he wouldn't be getting much sleep. The coffee addict ran downstairs, pulling at his hair with his hands and obviously stressing about inconveniencing Craig. In all truth, Craig didn't mind any inconvenience. The storm soaking him and the loss of sleep were nothing he cared about, but making Tweek happy was everything to him. _

_The two had been inseparable since childhood, both being pretty antisocial and weird in their own ways. Craig was aware that they probably had an unhealthy relationship, because they were so close to each other, completely dependent on the other to make it through the day. Token had often voiced concern about the two of them using each other as a crutch, building walls that separate them from the rest of the world, but Craig knew that no amount of ominous warnings from one of their close friends would change anything between them. The two just simply couldn't function without each other. _

_He changed his clothes quickly and followed his friend downstairs. As the blonde fussed with the coffee machine, Craig wondered what his life would be like if he didn't have Tweek to depend on him the way he did. A thick sadness washed over him, a sense of longing. Craig scolded himself, listening to the little voice in his head that told him to stop being so gay. It yelled for him to man up and stop thinking about the other boy so much._

_Craig wandered to the little glass patio area off Tweek's dining room. It was a breakfast nook/greenhouse type of thing. The rain struck down on the glass with a force that surprised him, little droplets slamming down in perfect splattered circles and then running off the sloped ceiling in streams. _

_Becoming aware of a warm presence beside him, he turned to his companion and accepted the mug of hot coffee in his outstretched hand. The two of them stared wordlessly at each other for a moment. Craig knew that the way he felt about his friend was wrong. He knew they could never be anything he wanted. Even if Tweek shared his feelings, his father would never allow it, nor would Tweek's, or anyone else in this godforsaken town. And if Tweek didn't share his sinful feelings, then Craig would lose his best friend. The only person he actually cared about. An unspoken communication passed between them, and they both sat down at the patio table, silent but for the constant thrumming of the rain on the glass around them._

Laying in his hospital bed, Craig could feel the tears roll down his face. His best friend was now lying somewhere in this horrible place, tubes coming out of his arm just like the ones coming out of Craig's. He lifted his hand up and wiped his cheek, determined not to make a fool of himself, even though he was entirely alone, in his darkened hospital room. He could tell that he wouldn't be able to move around very much anytime soon, but he vowed to get up out of this bed at the earliest opportunity and find Tweek. He needed to be there for him. He needed to make him better. A rush of determination filled him, and he cursed his injuries for holding him back. Frustration forced him to return to staring out the window at the rain.

**Hey guys and gals,**

So I'm a big fat liar. Its been like a year since I've updated... oops. In all honesty I just really haven't been in a writing mood for a while. Especially with this story, since when I started it I was in like a morbid/creative mood, and those are just really hard to come by. I do plan on finishing this story. I will not abandon it forever. Trust me, I have a whole other document full of planning all the different story lines I've got in mind for this one. btw it's gonna be amazing when it's done. Meanwhile, If you're interested so far, you should go ahead and click that follow button so you can keep up with me as I update. I can confidently advise you that it'll be worth your time.

While I'm grovelling for follows, **I'd like to issue an official type of warning.** This story has been an emotional roller coaster so far, and if you've made it to chapter six, you've probably realized that this story is a bit dark, so just as a point of clarification,

This story contains several scenes of traumatic experiences. There has been a tiny bit of descriptive gore, and I'm unsure of how much more there'll be later on (probably not much). The characters will be experiencing ptsd, and later in the story I plan to discuss topics such as brain damage, survivor's guilt, depression, suicide, hospital deaths, deaths of minors, dealing with the death of a loved one, bullying and the path of recovery after a tragedy.

Know that some of these experiences are things I myself have gone through, and know that I don't plan on taking it lightly. I hope to educate and help people understand what it's like to deal with a personal loss, and how to recover from emotional and physical trauma, while at the same time telling a story about these characters who love each other.

If these topics make you uncomfortable or cause you stress, I encourage you to stop reading at any point you deem necessary. Feel free to have a constructive conversation in the reviews if you wish to.

If you would like to read something lighter (as this is definitely the grimmest story I've written so far), I encourage you to check out any of my other stories. I have three in-progress right now, and I love getting new readers/followers.

I hope you have a great day and I can't wait to continue sharing my writing with you!


End file.
